Stepping Away
by dabbling
Summary: Okay, so this is a post-ep for Untethered. Or maybe more of a mid-ep, missing scenes kind of thing. After reading Retethered, by theweaknessinme, I didn't think I would write one, that one is so good. But, my brain started playing with it and so here it is. I hope y'all approve. I tried to stay true to Goren & Eames and everybody in this one. Oneshot.


Alex raised her fingers to her mouth and pulled at the jagged edge of her third fingernail. Without thinking, she tore it off and immediately regretted it. Blood oozed along the space between her nail and her finger. She stuck it in her mouth and sucked it clean.

He was a real mess. The doctors had said he was very lucky, and she knew she should believe that, but he didn't look so lucky. He lay in the hospital bed, lips cracked and scabbed, chapped from all the licking. He was still flushed and running a temperature, but he was out of danger for the moment. He still didn't seem to be sweating… at least, not much.

But his heart monitor beeped steadily, and the bags of fluid were absorbed into his body one after the other. She had to trust that the doctors were right.

Alex's thoughts turned to the rest of the mess. She forced herself not to bite any more nails, and folded her arms tightly across her chest. As his partner, as his _friend_, she knew why he'd done it. She frowned. He was in deep shit, not only with the brass, but with the Captain. Maybe, _maybe,_ if this had been at Rikers, Ross could have been more tolerant. But Bobby'd gone 300 miles out of their jurisdiction.

She was in, if not up to her neck, at least to her waist, too. She'd covered for him, kept it from Captain Ross, just let him do it.

A weak groan snapped her away from her thoughts. She got up and stood next to the bed. He grimaced and whined.

Careful to avoid the IV line, she put her hand in his. "You're going to be fine, Bobby. You're in a hospital, now."

He whimpered and turned his head further in her direction. He tried to lick his sore lips without much effect. He gave up on the idea of talking and just gave her hand a gentle squeeze. Eyes closed, he frowned against his pillow.

She brushed the fingers of her other hand against his stiff curls. They were hard from stale, dry sweat. Alex took one between her thumb and forefinger and rubbed back and forth until the individual strands were free of each other. It must have pulled, because he flinched and pushed deeper into the pillow. She let go, whispering an apology.

He licked his lips again, and eventually she felt his grasp loosen. Alex freed her hand and went back to the chair.

All in all, this was just a horrible feeling. She was worried, and she was furious, and she was afraid of the consequences. And there wasn't a thing she could do about any of it.

"Would you like something to read, hon?" a nurse asked. "Can't do no good worrying all night long."

Alex gave a semblance of a smile. "Thanks. That would be great."

"I'll fix you up just as soon as I'm done here," the nurse announced. Alex watched as she took his vitals and checked everything they'd hooked him to. "Lordy, his lips are a mess," she said under her breath. "I'll get something for that, too." She left the room and returned a few minutes later with a stack of magazines and a salve. With a gloved hand, she slathered the greasy stuff over his mouth, then tossed the glove in the trash. "Find something you like in there?" she asked Alex.

"Yeah, sure," Alex said, sorting a few magazines out of the pile.

"Well, my name's Nedra, and I'll be on until 7:00 tomorrow morning. You just let me know if you need anything."

As the nurse started to leave, Alex touched her arm. "I'm Alex," she said. "Thanks."

* * *

Bobby opened his eyes without processing anything they were seeing. Then he realized what he was seeing was unfamiliar. He blinked and looked around. A hospital room. He was in a hospital room. Turning to one side, he saw Alex asleep in the chair, her head tucked against her balled up hand, a magazine slipping off her lap into the crack between the arm and the seat cushion.

He licked his lips, then regretted it. Something foul-tasting and slimy was on them. Bobby raised his right hand and rubbed them, then regretted doing that, too. His lips were sore and stinging from the contact and the newfound dryness. He looked at the shiny stuff on the back of his hand, and tried to wipe it off onto the sheet.

"Alex?" he said, but his voice failed him. He made an attempt to clear his throat, without much success. Bobby decided just to whisper loudly. "Alex!"

She yawned and stretched, and blinked her bleary eyes. Bobby smiled to see her that way. It didn't last long. She quickly realized he'd asked for her. She sat upright.

"Bobby, you're awake!"

He nodded, knowing it would be futile to speak.

"Ross & I confronted the warden, and got you out. You're in a hospital, now. No more undercover."

He closed his eyes for a moment and recalled the prison, the horrible room they called Heaven, the awful treatment he'd received there. Bobby took a deep breath and opened his eyes again, letting them rest on Alex. He nodded. Then his mind started working. He looked up at her. "Ross?" he croaked.

She nodded. "He's pretty upset, but he wants to make sure you're okay. He's asked me to call him every day to let him know how you're doing."

All at once, Bobby realized Alex must be in trouble, too. His eyes searched her face. "Sorry," he whispered.

She frowned, but gave him a sober nod. "It's okay." It wasn't okay, but there was no point holding a grudge about it. They'd both made decisions, and acted on them.

Bobby touched his fingers against his throbbing lips.

"They have something for that," she said. "I'll get the nurse." Alex left, and when she came back, Nedra was walking behind her.

"Good morning, Mr. Goren. Nice to see your smiling face." She gloved up and dabbed the salve on his lips. "I'm Nedra. I'm off soon, but I'll be back tonight. Nice to meet you, Mr. Goren. See you later, Alex." She walked back out.

Knowing that licking or rubbing them would be unpleasant, Bobby pushed his lips against each other and smeared the medicine around. A comfortable silence passed between them, and Bobby's eyes got heavier. He fell asleep.

Alex finished reading the article and dropped the magazine into the seat next to her. She stood up and stretched her legs. She decided to go in search of a cup of coffee.

* * *

"I'm sorry, Captain, for dragging you into this." That much was true.

"I don't have to tell you how much hot water you're in."

"No, sir."

"Get some rest. I'll let you know what the Chief of D's office says."

"Thank you, sir. For everything," he added. Bobby hung up the phone and looked over at Eames, who had listened to every word as she navigated the freeway. He stared at her. "Thank you, too," he said.

She shrugged off his thanks, and read the next sign. "Almost home," she announced.

Bobby unscrewed the cap off his water bottle and took a swig, spilling some on the t-shirt they'd picked up before leaving town. He picked up his jacket from the floorboard and rolled it up, stuffing it beside his head as a makeshift pillow. Bobby closed his eyes, and his mind replayed the last time water had spilled.

_He was strapped to the table and had been hollering for water for hours. They brought him a flimsy paper cup and purposely poured it over his mouth so it would spill. He asked for more and was answered with sarcasm. With parched lips, he felt the cool water soak into the hair at the back of his head. He tried to turn his head, to lick it off the table, but it was no use. He couldn't reach it._

Alex heard what may have been a sob, and glanced in his direction. His head was turned away from her, and he'd pressed his face against his jacket. She watched him carefully, and saw the erratic up and down of his chest. "Bobby?" she said softly.

He didn't answer, but continued in his silent struggle. The worry was evident in her face. She still had no idea what had happened, exactly. She knew he'd been strapped down and denied water, but that was all she knew. He wouldn't tell her the details. In the hospital, he'd had a nightmare, but he didn't speak of it when he woke. He kept it all to himself, as he was doing now.

By the next mile marker, he seemed calm again. He moved the jacket behind his head and tilted the seat back. Bobby stared at the cream colored fabric above him until he finally fell asleep.

* * *

Home at last, Bobby got into the shower and relished every second. He drank some of the water from the shower head, just because he could. He scrubbed the last remnants of his time at the prison from his hair and his beard.

When he got out, he wrapped a towel around his waist and wiped the fog off the mirror to look at himself. The beard would have to go. He gathered up his straight razor, shaving cream, and aftershave, too. He set everything near the sink, picked up the razor and used it to cut away a chunk of hair.

Something about the light hit him funny, and he swayed. Bobby threw the razor down and gripped the sides of the sink with his hands. His eyes were shut tight. He felt an anxiety attack coming on. Bobby leaned over and opened the bathroom door. Just this simple change in the room made everything better. He took a deep breath and picked up the razor in a shaky hand.

Once he'd shortened it, he changed the blade on the razor and lathered up with shaving cream. Carefully, he scraped away the rest of the beard, taking special care with the hair on his neck. At last, he was done. He wiped away the rest of the shaving cream and splashed the aftershave on. Leaving the mess, he walked out into the comfort of his bedroom.

Alex was asleep on his bed. Still in her clothes, she looked like she'd sat down and then keeled over sideways. The tip of her nose peeked out from under her unruly hair.

Looking at her, his feelings of guilt bubbled up to the surface. He ticked back the number of days in his mind. She hadn't had any decent sleep for at least a week. Bobby stepped in, picked her feet up and laid them on the bed, then removed her shoes. He frowned at the thought of what repercussions she would face as a result of his reckless decision.

Bobby slipped out of the towel and pulled on a clean pair of boxers. He walked through his apartment, enjoying the fact that he was home. Every inch of it brought him comfort. The food in the fridge had expired, but he found a bottle of apple juice that was still good. Bobby picked it up and drank straight from the bottle.

He'd done the right thing, he knew that. The guards at the prison were dangerous, killers, and had to be stopped…for Donny's sake and everyone else's. Donny had complicated matters, though, with his escape. But the why, and the how…a million possibilities ran through his mind. He tried to figure what the boy's next move would be.

As he finished off the last of the juice, Bobby resolved to find his brother and talk to him about it. He pondered his fierce attachment to his nephew, a boy he hadn't even known existed a couple of weeks ago. He shook his head. Blood really was thicker than water.

* * *

He awoke in a cold sweat and found her staring at him. Bobby turned his eyes away from her quickly, but was surprised to feel her hand on his skin, just below his elbow. He'd been about to run from her, and somehow her touch anchored him.

His mind… he couldn't get it working. He still couldn't think straight. At last, he pulled himself away from her and got out of bed. He opened his top dresser drawer and grabbed his badge. He read the numbers quickly, memorizing them again. He could feel her staring at him, and he held it up for her to see.

"I… I c-couldn't remember… I couldn't remember the number," he said by way of explanation. "It's so simple." He stared at it again. "I've known it for years."

She sat up and leaned her back against the headboard. "You were dehydrated. The brain needs water to function well."

He heard her, he knew she was right. Bobby chuckled. "It's a terrible feeling," he said, and looked over at her. "Losing your mind."

Alex got up out of the bed. She stood in front of him and waited until he looked her in the eye. "You need to get some rest," she said, and gently laid his shield back in the drawer. Alex could see he was still troubled, but she knew of nothing she could possibly say that would help him. She patted his back and steered him in the direction of the bed. Then she went out to sleep on the couch, where she should have been all along.

* * *

Ross' phone call in the morning brought dreaded news: He was to appear before the Chief of D's at 10:00 Friday morning. Bobby hung up the phone and looked over at Alex. "It's set," he said. "Ten o'clock Friday morning." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I'd better get a haircut."

"Do you know what you'll say?"

He nodded. "I've been thinking about it."

* * *

He had expected it. All of it, really. Except the way he spoke of the investigation of Tates, Bobby had a sick feeling in his gut that nothing would come of it, beyond a couple of reprimands. They murdered a man! He swallowed his anger. Nothing he could do about it, now. He'd already done his part.

The guilt trip about Eames and the Captain hit its mark, too. Captain Ross had stood by him, displeased as he was, and Bobby would not forget that. He was ashamed to have muddied their service records.

After being suspended, he spent some time at home, cleaning the fridge and thinking. His thoughts turned back to Donnie. He would focus his attention there. It would be a good use of his time. He had nothing better to do, and everything about Donnie's escape nagged at him.

Eames had called already. She knew he was suspended. She was trying to be there for him, but Bobby didn't want her to. He'd already dragged her down far enough. It was time he stepped away.

_God, that hurt._ He looked at himself in the mirror. He replayed all of his logic. Yes, the thing to do was to get away from her before she drowned with him. And it hurt again to admit it. He pulled a button down shirt over his t-shirt, gathered his keys and wallet, and headed out the door to find his brother.


End file.
